In which I wish it was a hangover
Waking up. It is morning, still dark outside. Sun is not up yet.
My head hurts.
I did have a few drinks last night. The blog can wait. No morning coffee. Instead, hangover ritual: Aspirin. Water. Back to sleep for one hour.
Waking up. It is morning; light out now. Sun is up.
My head hurts. More than last time. This is bad. Try to roll over and sleep, but too much pain. Try to drink something, eat something, cannot.
Try to e-mail work, not coming in. The laptop screen is too bright. Karen must type for me.
The pain is behind my left eye, just growing stronger. Every noise, every glint of light stabbing into my brain like a rusty screwdriver.
A day inside. In bed. Under blankets. No light. No sound. Boredom. But sweet, quiet, dark boredom.
Sorry for the hiatus. Now that my brain is no longer exploding, we will proceed with our regularly scheduled shenanigans.
Sincerely,
Mr Topp.
(photo by Vincent Ma)
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